


Taction

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Feelings Realization, Frottage, Groping, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Sleep Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: ~ Taction: noun, obsolete the act of touching; contact ~Flint sleep fucks. It takes Silver a little while to realize it.





	Taction

 

Flint sleep-fucks.  
  
It takes Silver a while to realize it. The first time he’d been half-drunk, when Flint had rolled over on their shared palled and slid his hands down Silver’s body with careful, learned touches. He didn’t touch like a man who wasn’t aware of his surroundings but he wasn’t entirely present either, something loose and freeing in his touch, and Silver chalked it up to drink and stowed it away for the future, if need be. He doesn’t know what that need will be, but he likes to be prepared.

 

*  *  *

 

  
The next time it happens though he’s still not prepared. He’s curled on his pallet in the corner of the cabin where they’d decided it was safer for him to sleep until the crew was a little more on his side, face buried in his arm as he was on the verge of sleep.

He feels Flint before he hears him, the full length of his body pressing against him, and then Silver stiffens because it’s not the only thing pressed against him. Flint’s hard and Silver hesitates, trying to decide what to do. If Flint had come to him while they were both awake…well he's not sure what he'd have done then.

Flint’s breathing hotly into the back of his neck, his hand sliding down Silver’s hip, and then he’s inside Silver’s breeches, his hand between Silver's legs, stroking him. Silver stifles a groan into the pallet. Flint breathes harder, grinding against him slowly, a soft firm pressure sliding between Silver’s cheeks. He might as well not be wearing anything at all. Then Flint moves faster and faster, still stroking Silver’s cock as he thrusts. His coordination while sleeping really is remarkable, and part of Silver wants to commend him for it. The other part just wants Flint to keep going forever. His cock pulses between Flint’s fingers, fingers he knows from hours of observation, calloused, nimble fingers, fingers he can imagine slipping into him all too easily. Silver thinks of Flint touching him like that, and comes with another muffled groan, spilling over Flint’s hand.

It’s like his own release gives Flint permission to come. His thrusts come faster and faster until he comes too and Silver realizes he should have thought of this because now the back of his breeches are stained with Flint’s come.

Flint rolls over on his back with a sigh.

Silver eases over, looking at him. Flint’s eyes are still half closed but he looks peaceful now. There’s no sign that he was just rutting against Silver like a dog. It's as though it never happened. Were it not for the dampness between Silver's legs, he'd have thought he dreamed it.

Silver’s not sure what any of this means but he does know on some level, that he wanted Flint do that., once he knew what Flint was doing. He’s also fairly certain that Flint would kill him if he knew what he’d done. It doesn’t matter that Flint himself initiated it, albeit in his sleep. Silver simply knows Flint won’t stand for it.

 

*  *  *

 

So he doesn’t speak of it, not in the daylight when Flint doesn’t speak to him unless he has to, still maneuvering his way back into the crew’s good graces. Silver takes care to go to bed late, long after Flint’s curled himself into the bed in the corner, his back to Silver.

It doesn’t happen again and Silver almost starts to think he truly did dream it.

 

*  *  *

 

Until the night he wakes to find his pallet soaked, the rain coming in from the cabin window left open. He crawls out of it, clothes sopping. He shivers, looking around while Flint crosses the cabin, muttering under his breath as he closes the window, locking it against the wind. Most of it’s fine, it’s only a few things on the floor, Silver’s bed being one of them, that will need drying out come morning.

In the meantime, where’s he supposed to sleep?

“For fuck’s sake.” Flint pulls back the bedding impatiently. “Get your clothes off and get in here.”

Silver stares at him.

“Unless you’d rather sleep in that pile of wet blankets?”

Slowly Silver peels off his wet clothes, still not able to believe that Flint means him to get in bed with him naked.

After a minute though Flint goes over to the chest and opens it. He pulls out a shirt and tosses it to Silver, who manages to catch it thankfully. “Put that on at least.”

It doesn’t help, wearing Flint’s shirt, being in Flint’s bed. It doesn’t help knowing Flint is right there. So close to him that all Silver has to do is roll over and he’s right there. Silver squeezes his eyes shut, but that does little. Perhaps it won’t happen tonight. That’s for the best of course.

He waits, evening his breath, and for once it works. He’s nearly asleep when there’s a warmth on the back of his neck. Flint’s lips breathe a kiss on his skin, and then lower, on his shoulder as his hand slips over Silver’s hip, drawing him back against Flint’s groin.

Silver breathes softly but Flint just keeps kissing him and then his hand slips up inside the shirt Silver’s wearing Flint’s shirt, and strokes his cock.

This time Silver can’t contain the sound he makes and instantly the hand on his cock stills.

Flint’s awake or he is now. 

Silver freezes at the realization. What the fuck is Flint thinking about this? Does he think Silver made a move while he slept? He can’t, can he? Or perhaps…

“Would you like to tell me what the fuck is going on here?” Flint’s mouth is still right there, his breath hot against Silver’s skin, causing Silver to shiver. An involuntary gesture, but it carries all the way down to his cock, which pulses in Flint’s grasp.

Flint still hasn’t taken his hand away.

“You…” Silver starts and then stops. How can he begin to explain this, and yet it’s all he has. “You started kissing me.”

Even to him it sounds like a fiction, made up for whatever perverse reason he has.

At this Flint takes his hand away and sits up. “What?”

“It’s all right.” Silver says though it’s clearly not all right. “I thought it might. . .I mean it’s happened before, but.” There he halts again, knowing that was a mistake.

Flint’s brow furrows. “This has happened before?” He stares at Silver. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wasn’t…going to say anything.” Silver says, and winces. They both know why he wouldn’t say anything, that keeping something on Flint would be the most useful weapon in his possession. And since that was what he intended at first, Silver can hardly deny it. He also can’t deny that things have change, though he’s not entirely willing to tell that to Flint.

“I didn’t…mind.” He says at last. Immediately he regrets it. Fuck, that sounds even worse.

Flint’s still just staring at him. “You don’t  _mind_  that I’ve been fucking you in my sleep? Not even consciously but like a damned beast in heat?”

“I…” Silver stutters. There’s no point trying to explain. Flint knows exactly what he was doing and Silver holds his breath waiting for him to react.

To his surprise, and even more surprising, disappointment, Flint simply says "Get back to sleep." He turns his back to Silver and settles down again.

Silver sits there a moment. Surely that can't be the end of it. He can feel Flint's tension across the short distance of the bed. He wants to say something, to reassure him somehow, even though he's not entirely sure what he'd be reassuring Flint about, but he keeps silent, waiting to fall asleep.

 

*  *  *

 

In the morning he wakes slowly. When he opens his eyes Flint's gazing back at him, an unreadable expression in his eyes. 

Silver blinks. Perhaps this is the dream?

"How many times?" Flint asks.

"Twice." Silver says. "That's all." 

"Still twice too many." Flint mutters. He rolls on his back, looking at the ceiling. "What were you waiting for? A chance to get a better position with the crew? To get rid of me?"

"Something like that." Silver says. "The former, not the latter." He clarifies.

"Why not? Plenty of the crew would be glad to have me gone." There's resentment in Flint's voice.

“There may be men aboard this ship that wish you gone, captain.” Several names flit through his mind, but he refrains from saying any of them aloud, “but I am not one of them.”

The look Flint gives him shows he doesn’t believe Silver but neither does he press the point. Instead he clears his throat and says, “So if you and I had started a conversation that had ended with me fucking you, you wouldn’t have objected?”

Silver feels the corners of his mouth twitch faintly. “No.” He says, “I wouldn’t.”

“Hmm.” Is all Flint says. He gets up and starts reaching for his clothes. “Your clothes should be dry at least by now. Take your bedding up and dry it on deck.”

Silver obeys, getting dressed quickly, though he’s reluctant to remove Flint’s shirt. As he does, he catches sight of Flint through the armhole, the captain watching him with an expression Silver can’t make heads or tails of.

His own clothes are still a tad damp but he doesn’t mention this to Flint. Instead he hangs his captain’s shirt on the end of the bed, gathers up his pallet and takes it up on deck. At least the sun is bright. It’ll be right as rain in no time, and surely so will Silver.

 

*  *  *

 

It isn’t until much later, evening, dusk has fallen, that Silver finds himself up on the quarterdeck, watching the dark waves. He’s not thinking much on anything. Even the events of last night have faded as he thinks of the days to come.

Flint climbs the ladder and stands there, looking at him. At first he doesn’t speak and simply goes to stand with his hands on the railing looking at the ship.

At last he clears his throat and glances at Silver. “Mr. Silver.”

“Yes?” Silver looks up at him.

Flint hesitates and then, “I think it’s time we start a conversation.”

This time Silver’s lips can’t hide its smile.

 


End file.
